Bride Gone Bad (20 page)

“If I never hear the word Rattler again in my life, it'll be too soon.” She took several deep breaths. “I will accompany you to speak with the ghosts and complete my agreement. After that, we part ways.”

“But you're my ladylove.”

“As of now, I'm your enemy.”

When he appeared shocked and hurt, she hardened her heart. He had betrayed her, used her, and left her in a terrible state. She couldn't trust him. She wouldn't accept another one of his lies.

He took a deep breath. “It's been too much for you. I understand. No matter what, I love you. And I believe you love me.”

“You are the most deluded man I've ever met.”

“Thank you for what you've given me and done for me. And for my Sun Rattler clan. If you continue on with me to Fort Coffee and talk with the ghosts, I won't ask anything else of you.”

“There wouldn't be any point because that's all you're going to get.”

“I'll sleep on the other side of the campfire.”

“Fine. I'll sleep with the horses.”

She walked over to the blankets, grabbed her own, picked up her saddlebags and canteen, and stalked toward their mounts. If she thought about the reality of her situation, she'd break down and cry. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and let him soothe her. But she had more pride than that. And no matter how honeyed his words, they'd all be lies.

She tossed her things down by Anna, and glanced back. He stood silhouetted by the campfire, arms crossed over his chest as if in protection or comfort. He acted like he'd taken a blow to the heart when she was the one who'd sustained it.

Once more, she turned her back on him, doing her best to ignore the tug of their connection.

Four days on the road and Lucky had talked till he was blue in the face. He thought he was making progress with Tempest, but he couldn't be sure. He'd explained again and again about the Sun Rattler clan, their history, their power, their importance. At first, she hadn't even pretended to listen, but finally, by the end of day two, he could tell he was catching her interest.

But she wouldn't let him near her. They bedded down on opposite sides of the campfire. He was hurting, but he could tell that she was hurting just as much, if not more. He didn't know what else to say to reach her. One thing he did know. They were running out of time.

He didn't want to arrive in Skullyville with things crossways between them. For that matter, he didn't want to live the rest of his life that way. But she was mad as an old settin' hen and stubborn as a mule. She wouldn't have any reason to be angry at him if she'd just admit that they were both responsible for her being with child, a fact he didn't doubt after the power of the ceremony. Well, no reason other than the fact that he'd known the probable outcome, hadn't warned her, and didn't protect her. But he'd explained that it was the only way to keep her safe from Crawdaddy and other predatory Rattlers. The trouble with that argument was that she'd most likely never encountered a man like Crawdaddy, so she couldn't begin to understand his ruthlessness.

There was another problem he hadn't counted on, either. Maybe she didn't like babies. He couldn't believe she wouldn't treasure their child as much as he would, but if she wouldn't see reason, he'd raise their child on his own with Apokni, or Grandmother Rattler's help. It wouldn't be right, and they'd all suffer from the separation, but he'd do it.

“If it'll ease your mind,” Lucky said, “we can get married the American way as soon as we find a justice of the peace.”

“How kind,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “What makes you think I'd want to be tied up with you any more than I already am?”

“For the baby's sake, if not ours.”

“I told you. There is no baby.”

“Tempest, you're my bride.”

“Our relationship is business now. We should have kept it that way.”

“I explained—”

“No. I've heard your story too many times. I'm sick to death of Rattlers, particularly the two-legged kind.”

He clamped his mouth shut. Maybe he hadn't made as much progress as he'd thought. There was no point in aggravating the situation. He needed to change the subject till she cooled off, if she ever did.

“We'll be reaching Skullyville soon.” He pointed ahead.

“That's an odd name for a town.”

“It's a corruption of the Choctaw word
iskuli
combined with the French
ville
. Basically, it means Money Town.”

“But why?”

“From 1831 to 1834, the Choctaw were removed from their homes, farms, and towns in Mississippi and Alabama by the U.S. government. Thousands died en route because soldiers forced them to walk in winter through ice and snow with little food and no shelter. Many of those who survived were sent to the wilderness here where the United States established an agency. In order not to starve, Choctaws came to Skullyville to receive government payments as scant compensation for what was taken from them.”

“That's terrible. I had no idea. They couldn't keep their homes?”

“Or their ancient homeland.” He glanced over at her and was surprised to see her put a hand to her stomach, as if in protection. “Some brave souls chose to remain, but their lives were drastically changed by their losses.”

“I don't understand. Couldn't the Choctaw bring their household goods, cattle, hogs, chickens?”

“In many cases, Americans stood outside Choctaw homes, waiting for soldiers to remove the residents. American lottery winners walked inside where food was cooking, sat down at Choctaw tables, milked Choctaw cows, and harvested Choctaw farms and gardens.”

“But surely that can't be legal in the United States. We have a Constitution and a Bill of Rights. Our government can't just take somebody's money and property.”

“Indians aren't American citizens. I am, but I'm mixed-blood. You need to understand that if a government creates a law and has the arms to back it up, the people who represent that government can do anything they like to those without power or the ability to defend themselves.”

“That's scary. It's also why you carry so many guns, isn't it?”

“Anything in life can be taken from you, except knowledge and spirit.”

“Love? Family?”

He looked directly at her, willing her to understand the importance of what they were building together. “Those, too.”

She shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “That explains why you're Chief of the Secret Order of Sun Rattlers. You're doing everything you can to preserve your heritage and culture.”

“And my Rattler clan.” He raised his voice. “We will
never
forget the Trail of Tears. And we will never forget that governments can easily make treaties, but their representatives can just as easily tear them apart. Once a man or woman breaks their word, you can no longer trust them.”

“No exceptions?”

“None, if you value your life.”

“I'm sorry about what happened to the Indians.”

“You didn't do it.”

“But I'm descended from people who benefited from it.”

“So am I.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. He felt heartened when she didn't swat him away. “It's important to remember the past so that we don't repeat the errors or forget the transgressions. But the present and future are what count now.”

She nodded, not looking at him.

“I want to build a future with you. Will you let me?”

She turned her horse away, putting space between them. “It's too soon. I understand a lot more now, but it's still not quite real. I want to complete this job for you, but then—”

“I'm not asking you to make a decision this moment, but please tell me you'll keep an open mind.”

She looked at him with violet eyes that appeared bruised and puffy from tears. “I can't stay mad at you forever, but I'm scared and hurt.”

“I apologize again. If I could have handled our situation in any other way, I would have done it.”

She took a deep breath. “Let's set aside our differences for now, so we can work together.”

“Let's get the lay of the land in Skullyville.” He smiled at her. “You'll like the fact that New Hope Seminary, a boarding school for one hundred Choctaw girls, is nearby.”

“That's impressive.”

“And then seven miles north near the Arkansas River is Fort Coffee. After the buildings were abandoned by the U.S. military, it was established as an academy for Choctaw boys, but then closed during the War Between the States.”

“Sounds like the Choctaw are concerned with educating their children.”

“True. Even more, they consider children their greatest gifts.”

She put a hand to her stomach again. “I think they're right.”

And he thought he had hope, if he could keep them both alive long enough to rescue the Soleil Wheel.

He'd been distracted on the long ride, but he'd kept watch for gunslingers and outlaws. He'd almost have been relieved if somebody had tried to stop them because it would have meant that all the firepower wasn't being concentrated on the Mounds near Fort Coffee.

They were riding into danger. He could feel a stirring of the spiderweb like he had in Delaware Bend. Only this time forces were massing at the center. He was almost there with Tempest. And Crawdaddy would know it.

He slipped the leather guard off his Winchester and touched the S&W .44 on his hip. If there was an attack, he had to be quick and deadly.

By the time Tempest rode into Skullyville, she was questioning her life and feeling apprehensive, but she didn't let Lucky know it. He needed her to be confident that she would be able to speak with ghosts at the Mounds. Yet all his talk about a man called Crawdaddy had set her on edge. She also thought this could be the place where she might catch up with Haig and confront him.

She was hot, dusty, tired, and sick of eating jerky, cheese, and crackers. But at least she wasn't as sore as she had been after her first day in the saddle. She was glad the town offered amenities that she hadn't had since Texas. On the main street, she could see three general stores, three blacksmith shops, a physician's shingle, two cafés, a post office, and a number of homes. All the buildings were constructed of wood and most had horses or horse-drawn wagons tied to the hitching posts in front.

As she rode through town she glanced at the people doing business. Women carried baskets and wore calico dresses. Men wore shirts and trousers with hats that had tall, round crowns. They all appeared to be Choctaw. She'd never seen so many Indians in one place before, and it brought home the fact that she was truly in Indian Territory.

Lucky rode close to her. “Skullyville was situated here to be near a big, ever-flowing spring. There are two other springs within a mile. It's near the Fort Towson road, and the Arkansas River is only three miles away with a landing stage. And the town is only fifteen miles from Fort Smith, where a person can get anything they want from basics to luxuries.”

“I can see it's a good location in beautiful country. I hope there's a hotel. If we have time, I'd like a hot meal. Maybe more.”

“Skullyville Inn is just outside of town. I thought we could take a short break, clean up, and get a few supplies.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Soon she saw a two-story building painted white with a wide front porch and several horses tied to the hitching posts. It looked wonderful.

She quickly rode Anna close to the hotel, slipped out of the saddle, untied her saddlebags, tossed her reins over a hitching post, and stepped onto the shady porch.

“Hey!” Lucky called, swinging out of his saddle. “Are you in a hurry?”

She chuckled. “Come on.”

When he joined her, carrying his saddlebags, he opened the front door, and she stepped inside. She was surprised at the décor. She could have been in a cozy parlor in Jefferson with rose wallpaper and conversation groups of plush chairs and settees in rich burgundy and forest green colors.

“May I be of assistance?” a soft voice asked.

Tempest turned to see a Choctaw woman wearing a stylish dress in pale green standing near a check-in desk.

“Yes,” Lucky said. “Do you have a room available?”

Tempest nudged him, meaning that he should ask for two rooms, but he ignored her.

“I'm Emma,” the young woman said, cocking her head to the side as she looked at Tempest. “Excuse me, but would you be Miss Temperance Tempest?”

The TSPT, the march, the hatchet came flooding back to Tempest. She thought she'd put all that behind her, but here it was again.

“Yes, she is,” Lucky said.

Emma smiled. “We're so pleased and proud to have you here at the Skullyville Inn. We understand that you and other ladies were instrumental in closing down Burnt Boggy Saloon.”

“That's true,” Lucky said.

“I just happened to be there.” Tempest realized that the news must have spread far and wide.

“No need to be modest.” Emma gestured up the stairs. “Room Two is all yours. Gratis, of course. And I have your letters right here.”

Tempest felt her mouth drop open. “Letters?”

“Relay courier from Delaware Bend to Fort Smith stopped by here yesterday with letters for Temperance Tempest. That's how we knew to expect you.”

“I told Ludmila and Mama Lou we were headed here,” Lucky said. “Guess they've got news for you.”

Tempest glanced around, feeling as if this was a repeat of the Lone Star Hotel in an eerie way. She really didn't think she should be getting such special treatment. “Please, may I have the letters now?”

“Certainly.” Emma pulled letters tied with a green ribbon out of a desk drawer and handed them to Tempest.

“Thank you.” She glanced at Lucky. “I can't wait to read these. There's a cozy spot over by the window.”

“Allow me to take your saddlebags and set them in your room.” Emma walked over with outstretched hands.

Tempest noticed Lucky hesitate, but she didn't. “You're so kind.” She handed over her saddlebags, so Lucky did as well. She noticed that Emma was strong because she easily lifted the heavy bags and headed upstairs.

Lucky walked over, pulled out a chair at a small table by a front window with a lace curtain, and Tempest sat down.

“Oh,” she moaned. “Such comfort for my backside.”

He chuckled as he sat down. “You've been a long time in the saddle.”

“Too long.” She set the package of letters on the table and untied the bow. “Look, these are from Ludmila, Diana, and Elmira. I'm so excited.”

“Are you going to read them or look at them?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“I'm savoring the surprise first.”

“Remember, we're short of time.”

She tore open the end of one envelope, slipped out the letter, and quickly read the contents. She caught her breath in surprise.

“Not bad news, I hope.”

“No. Good news.” She glanced up into his amber eyes. “Elmira and Lamira were so excited about the prospects of making my red gown for the painting that they went to the Bend. They're staying at the Lone Star Hotel. And they're thinking about opening a dressmaker's shop.”

“They're doing all that on twenty dollars?”

“And encouragement. I believe we have Ludmila to thank for their new lease on life, although it's hard to imagine them moving permanently to the Bend.”

“Good for them. Makes you wonder what's in the other letters.”

She opened the next one and quickly read its content. “Diana's letter says that Mercy is the toast of the town. Everybody wants to buy him a drink. Ludmila has ordered oil paints and canvas. Folks are discussing how to repair Lulu.” She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “She adds that Mercy isn't well, but she's trying to help him.”

“Don't give up on Mercy. He's not planted on Boot Hill yet.”

“You're right. There's still time.”

“What's in the third letter?”

Tempest opened it, read the contents, and glanced up. “You're not going to believe this one.”

“Try me.”

“Mrs. Bartholomew and the TSPT returned to the Bend with most of the outlaws from Burnt Boggy in tow.”

“They called in Texas Rangers or Deputy U.S. Marshals?”

“Neither.” She couldn't hold back a giggle. “Remember how much Chancy Clancy admired Mrs. Bartholomew?”

“That bosom? Yes.”

“They're engaged.”

“What!” Lucky laughed, shaking his head. “I bet she got him cleaned up.”

“And not just him.”

“She's engaged to them
all
?”

“No. However, Mrs. Bartholomew and the Texas Society for the Promotion of Temperance and the Chancy Clancy Outlaw Gang are going on tour. They will give lectures on how the TSPT showed the bandits how to mend their ways and become upright, sober citizens.”

Lucky shook his head, chuckling. “Might work. How are they funding it?”

“Mrs. Bartholomew is a wealthy widow and committed to the cause. Also, I believe they'll sell tickets.”

“Do you suppose Burt and Bob put that bee in her bonnet?”

“Maybe. But they didn't get her engaged.”

Lucky laughed again.

Tempest carefully slipped each letter back into its envelope. She'd reread them later. She was so pleased for Elmira and Lamira. She couldn't wait to talk with them. Maybe happiness was moving to a new town and starting a new life. She'd broken free. Now they had followed her.

As she was tying the ribbon around the letters, she felt an odd sensation that reminded her of the slithering rattlesnake at the creek. And then the Soleil Wheel over her heart hurt. She tried to ease the pain by massaging it.

“What is it?” Lucky asked.

She felt compelled to glance toward the stairs. A man walked down them, intently focused on her. He was of medium height, but twice as broad, with solid muscle packed into a dark blue suit. He appeared to be in his late thirties. His pale head was bald as a billiard ball and he had no facial hair, either. He appeared stark, austere, and ruthless.

“Crawdaddy.” Lucky stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair.

She stood, too, feeling as if she'd stepped into a viper pit.